Take Care
by Hawky21
Summary: The battle of the Department of Mysteries claims a different victim, and in Dumbledore's office Harry has a different reaction to the Prophecy. He is finally ready to step up and become the hero he was meant to be.


_**Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix **_

_**Page 706**_

"_Crucio!_"

The moment Bellatrix Lestrange raised her wand and uttered those words the entire world seemed to slow down around Harry. He could do nothing but watch the masked Death Eater, who held Neville up by his neck, tighten his grip as his body began to spasm uncontrollably. He watched as Neville drew his legs up into his chest so that the Death Eater holding him was momentarily holding him off the ground, and screamed out in pain from the torture he was receiving from the darkest of witches. The masked Death Eater that had been holding him upright dropped him back down to the cold floor. He lay in front of the assembled group of supporters of the Dark Lord twitching and screaming.

Harry didn't move. He stood in front of the Death Eaters, doing his best to keep them all in view, with his wand clutched in his right hand – ready to attack, to fight, to die – and feeling his resolve to protect the Prophecy that lay in his left hand fall away as the screams of his friend reached his ears. Unconsciously, his grip on the prophecy loosened and he prepared himself to hand over his biggest bargaining chip to save the life of his friend.

"That was just a taster!" said Bellatrix, raising her wand so that Neville's screams stopped and he lay sobbing at her feet. She turned and gazed up at Harry. "Now, Potter, either give us the prophecy or watch your friend die."

Harry didn't have to think; there was no choice. The prophecy now burned hot with guilt and regret and Harry only risked one final glance at it before reaching his arm out and leaving it unprotected in the palm of his hand. The only other unmasked Death Eater in the room, deep in the Department of Mysteries was the long blonde hair and pale face of Lucius Malfoy, who jumped forwards to take it.

Then, high above them, as if descended from the heavens themselves, two doors burst open and five saviours burst into the room. Harry pulled the prophecy from Malfoy's grasp twisted and dived out off the dais and out of the way as magic began raining from the sky. From the sunken floor, Harry could see the figures of Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt burst into the room and ambush the surprised Death Eaters. The Order of the Phoenix had come to his aid when he needed it most.

Through the darting bodies and the flashes of light, Harry could see Neville crawling along the floor. Getting back to his feet, he quickly dodged jets of red light that was heading in his direction and flung himself flat on the ground to reach Neville. "Are you okay?" he yelled, as another spell soared inches above their heads.

"Yes," Neville said, trying to pull himself up.

"And Ron?" he asked, thinking back to the incapacitated friends he had brought along, but had been forced to leave behind.

"I dink he's all righd-" Neville stuttered, his speech still affected by the broken nose he had suffered seemingly an age ago. "-he was still fighding de brain when I lefd-"

The stone floor between them exploded as a spell hit it, leaving a crater right where Neville's hand had been only seconds before; both of them were scrambling away from the spot when a thick arm emerged from the cloud of smoke and debris that had clouded Harry's vision. It seized Harry by the neck and pulled him upright. "Give it to me," growled a voice in his ear, "Give me the prophecy..."

The man was pressing on so tightly on Harry's windpipe that he could not breathe. Through watering eyes he saw Sirius duelling with a Death Eater ten feet away, Tonks, still halfway up the tiered seats, was firing spells down at a furious Bellatrix. Through all the commotion, no-one noticed that Harry was in trouble.

"Aargh!"

Neville had come lunging out of nowhere; unable to articulate a spell, he had been able to jab his wand into the eyehole of the Death Eater mask hard and fast. The man relinquished his hold on Harry at once with a howl of pain. Harry instinctively whirled around to face him and gasped: "Stupefy!" The Death Eater keeled over backwards and his mask slipped off. It was McNair, Buckbeak's would be killer, one of his eyes now swollen and bloodshot.

"Thanks." Harry muttered just before grabbing onto Neville's shoulder and forcing him back down to the cold ground as a jet of green flew by where their heads had been only moments before. From across the room, Harry could see Tonks fallen form, rolling down the stone steps, with a triumphant Bellatrix running back toward the fray.

Harry tightened his grip on his wand, and forced his feet under his body as he pushed his way back up to his feet to meet the Death Eater. Sirius, who had emerged victorious from his duel with Dolohov, seemed to know exactly what Harry was about to do. "Harry!" he called out, "Take the prophecy, grab Neville and run!" He didn't wait for a response, and dashed in front of Harry to do battle with his cousin. Harry did not see what happened next, as Kingsley stepped into his line of vision, fighting furiously with the now unmasked Rockwood.

Leaving Bellatrix to Sirius, Harry looked down to see his fellow Gryffindor still on the ground, clutching his ankle and hissing in pain. "My ankle-" he cried out, "It snapped."

"Can you stand!" Harry bellowed in Neville's ear, as his legs jerked and twitched uncontrollably, "Put your arm around my neck-" Neville did so, and with his legs still flying around in every direction, Harry valiantly dragged his fallen friend from the source of the battle.

"Dubbledore!" said Neville, his sweaty face suddenly transformed as he stared over Harry's shoulder.

"What?"

"DUBBLEDORE!"

Harry turned to look where Neville was staring. Directly above them, framed in the doorway from the Brain Room, stood Albus Dumbledore, his wand aloft, his face white and furious. Harry felt an electric charge surge through his body – _they were saved_.

Dumbledore sped down the steps, past Neville and Harry, and entered the fray. The Headmaster of Hogwarts made it to the bottom of the steps before any of the Death Eaters even noticed the powerful wizards' presence. One of the Death Eaters tried to make a run for it, scrabbling like a monkey up the stone steps opposite. A quick flick of Dumbledore's wand pulled him back effortlessly as if he had hooked him with an invisible fishing line.

The appearance of Dumbledore had rattled the Death Eaters, who were no longer duelling with the members of the Order, and instead seemed to be just holding them off while desperately searching for an exit. Only one pair was still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Sirius and Bellatrix fought furiously on top of the dais, just in front of the mysterious archway he had encountered earlier. Harry watched as Sirius ducked Bellatrix's beam of light, and laughed at her. "Come on," he taunted, "You can do better than that."

The second jet of light hit him squarely in the chest.

The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock.

Harry released Neville, and jumped down from the stone steps. Pulling back out his wand, he raced across toward the dais where the two purebloods had been duelling. The hysterical laughter of Bellatrix Lestrange echoed around the cavernous room, and without thinking Harry raised his wand and screamed out the first curse that came to mind. "Reducto!" Bellatrix ducked behind a wooden pillar as Harry's curse slammed into it, leaving a large dent in the brick work.

Sirius was taking an age to fall, and his body curved into a graceful ark as he sank backwards and closer toward the ragged veil hanging from the arch.

He wouldn't reach him in time. That thought alone was enough to send a surge of panic searing through him. Thinking quickly, he raised his wand and pointed it toward the veil, and toward Sirius. "Accio Sirius!"

Sirius was dangling on the edge, teetering on the threshold between life and death. Harry didn't know what was beyond the veil, but he was sure that he wouldn't like the answer. The wait lasted for what seemed like an eternity as Sirius remained on the brink of the arch. Any remaining sounds from the battle around him fell on deaf ears and his tongue got caught in the back of his throat, making it impossible for him to shout, or scream.

Sirius' body was flung towards him, and away from the vacant veil. Harry could do nothing but laugh, even after feeling the weight of his Godfather's body drop down on top of him, pinning him once again to the stone ground. That alone would cause a few extra bruises to add to what already would be a quite impressive collection after this battle came to a close. At that moment, he didn't care, because in another life Sirius would have fallen through that archway, and Harry would have been broken.

He was unconscious. The red light that had struck him in the middle of the chest had clearly done more damage than Harry was aware of, but they steady rise and fall of Sirius chest caused a wave of relief to flood through him.

"Accio Prophecy!"

Bellatrix's spell came out of nowhere, and despite the sweat, blood and tears that had gone into protecting it, the globe was ripped from Harry's hand, and flew directly into the waiting arms of Bellatrix.

Harry's hand burned without the now familiar weight of the prophecy, and he shifted his head- still under Sirius' dead body weight- to see Bellatrix ducking behind the pillar and taking off toward the stone benches, away from the battle and toward her lord and master. Harry knew that if he let her escape, he would have failed. They all would have failed. The battle and the injuries that they had all suffered would be for nought – Voldemort would have won and he would gain the one thing he had spent the entire year working toward getting. He couldn't let that happen. A flare of his pride and his damn Gryffindor courage gave him the strength he needed to use his remaining strength to heave the dead weight of his godfather off of him.

Scrambling back up to his feet, with his wand comfortably back in his right hand, Harry broke into a sprint and followed Bellatrix up those large steps and through the broken pieces of what had been a wooden door. The hem of the Death Eaters robes whipped just out of sight ahead and before he knew it, they were back in the room where the brains were swimming.

She must have noticed Harry giving chase, because without missing a beat she managed to throw a wild curse over her shoulder. He didn't need to stop running to avoid it though, as the curse was wayward. It took him another few moments to realize that the curse wasn't aimed at him.

The glass tank that contained about a dozen brains smashed upon the impact of the spell, and Harry's nose was instantly overwhelmed by the foul smelling potion within. The brains that had been released from their cages dropped to the ground and began spreading their long coloured tentacles. Harry reacted quickly and once again raised his wand. "_Wingardium Leviosa!" _ The brains that had been blocking his path flew up into the air, and headed toward the door Bellatrix had just disappeared through.

His three fallen friends, Ron, Ginny and Luna remained by the door, just where he left them. Luna was still unconscious, still feeling the effects of being flung backwards into the brick wall. Ginny remained immobile, her ankle having snapped in the earlier stages of the battle. And Ron, he was still suffering after being with an unidentified spell from the Death Eaters and being the subject of an assault by one of the brains Harry had dispelled only moments before.

"Harry – what - ?" He heard Ron say as he past him.

He stopped for the briefest of moments to bark out instructions, "Just wait here," he said, "Someone from the Order will be here in a minute."

And then he was off again, chasing after the shadowy form of Bellatrix Lestrange. If he hadn't been in such a rush, he might have noticed that Hermione Granger was not among them.

He wrenched open the door and found himself in a circular black hall, with just as many exits as there were entrances. He only took a moment to find his bearings, before catching sight of Bellatrix disappearing through a door on the other side of the room. Beyond her was the corridor leading directly back to the lifts.

Harry's jaw tightened and his resolve hardened. Bellatrix would not be leaving the Ministry with that prophecy in hand.

He raced across the other side of the room, burst through the door, and entered the corridor just in time to see the doors closing in front of Bellatrix in the lift. Cursing under his breath, he slammed his fist against the button on the panel beside the elevator, calling a second lift. It only took a moment, but Harry was impatient, and squeezed through the doors before they had even been fully opened. Once inside, he hammered against the button marked _Atrium _and watched as the doors slid shut. Within seconds, he was rising.

With a soft _beep _the lift reached the Atrium and once again, the doors opened. Bellatrix was already on the other side of the hall, with her back facing him as she closed in on the telephone lift. Knowing that he only had one shot at this, he raised his wand and fired off a Trip Jinx. His aim was good, and even though he was several feet away from her, he watched with satisfaction as she lost her footing and went sprawling across the marble floor. She lost her grip on the prophecy, which rolled a few yards ahead of her.

There was brief moment during which the precious prophecy remained unclaimed. That only lasted a matter of seconds though as Bellatrix scrambled forward to grab hold of it but Harry was quicker. With a flick of his wand, he repeated the spell that the Death Eater had used only a few minutes before. "_Accio Prophecy!"_

The small ball that had been the subject of the entire battle was a fingertip away from once again being in Bellatrix's grasp, before Harry's magic pulled it toward him and away from her. It took a few seconds for it to once again land safely back in Harry's hand, but he only had a moment to celebrate his small victory as Bellatrix furiously got back to her feet and pointed her wand at Harry. He raised his wand, and once again prepared himself to duel with a witch with far more experience than he had.

"No more games Potter," She said viciously. She took a few steps forward, her footsteps echoing ominously around the spacious yet empty atrium. "Hand me the Prophecy, or die painfully." Harry didn't waver, and remained unmoving. His body stayed alert, and he made sure that he was ready to fire off spells at a moment's notice. She laughed cruelly at his courage, at his defiance. "Do you really think you stand a chance against me, Potter? One on one, with no help, no assistance, and no-one to take the curses that were meant for you?"

"You've been trying to kill me all night," Harry responded evenly. "I'm still here."

"Yes you are," The smile that Bellatrix had had on her face twisted and transformed to something considerably darker. "Well then...Let's see if there's something we can do about that. _CRUCIO!_"

The curse came at Harry hard and fast. He just had enough time to blink, before diving to ground, narrowly avoiding the unforgivable curse that had been launched at him, and crouched down behind a giant stone statue. With the prophecy still protected in his hand, he took a moment to calm his breathing, before peeking out from behind the statue, looking to get in some sort of offence against the dangerous Death Eater. The force of the blasting curse Bellatrix had followed up with caused to tuck his head and his wand behind the statue as the spell began to peel away at the stone.

"Come on Potter," She taunted, with a mad look on her face as she released another redactor curse, and watched with delight as the statue that protected Harry began to crumble away. "Come out and play..."

Harry winced as the impact of the spell collided with the only thing that stood between him and Bellatrix. Now regretting his choice to chase her alone, he cursed under his breath as he tried to figure out a way to successfully take on Bellatrix and protect the prophecy he had fought so hard for at the same time.

"I expected more from you," Bellatrix continued, "The great Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived, now cowering in fear like nothing more than a common coward. I always thought-"

Harry chose that moment to strike. He burst out from behind the statue with his game face on and a curse already on the tip of his tongue. Harry was fast, but Bellatrix was faster. The stunner that he had sent toward her dissipated harmlessly against the golden shield that appeared around Bellatrix with a flick of her wand. Bellatrix brought her wand down in a slashing motion, and two beams of magic Harry couldn't identify crossed the space between them at break neck speed. Relying on instincts alone, he was able to avoid the first spell and raised a hasty shield to deflect the second one. He watched as the spell he had avoided slammed into the Atrium wall, and made a hissing noise on impact. He shuddered to think what would have happened to him if that spell had connected with his skin.

The duel raged on, and Bellatrix was using a complicated wand movement to cast something else that would have been just as nasty as the spell she had used before. This time, Harry was quicker. He couldn't attack her directly. It was a harsh and stark truth, but she was better than him. Going toe to toe and wand to wand with her would be suicide. He would have to out manoeuvre her. "_Reducto!_"

His curse wasn't aimed at Bellatrix, instead it had been directed to the marble floor directly in front of her. The moment the spell made contact with the marble flooring it exploded in a cloud of dust and debris. Harry ignored the thick layers of dust that was travelling into his eyes and up his nostrils and concentrated on the fact that she wouldn't be able to see him. He finally had her on the back foot. With his wand raised, Harry took a deep breath and gave her hell.

"_EXPELLIARMUS...STUPEFY...REDUCTO...REDUCTO...DIFFINDO...STUPEFY..."_

The curses rolled off his tongue, one after another. Harry didn't stop, and he wouldn't let up. All he cared about at that moment in time was cursing the Death Eater within an inch of her life. His entire body started to burn, with tiredness and weariness from the battle. Even his scar was inflamed, but as Harry continuously focused on the casting the next spell, the true significance of that fact didn't hit him.

With every spell the cloud of dust grew larger and thicker. He had no idea how many of these curses were actually landing, but he kept his wand moving, even as his arm grew stiff and tired. The cloud was no longer dormant. It had become angry, and swept the area like a tornado. It was spreading throughout the Atrium, from the marble floors to high up in the rafters that provided the underlining of the streets of London. Harry continued to tire, so much so that it was now aching every time he tried to inhale. With one final roll of the dice, he swung his wand wildly and cried, "_REDUCTO!_"

Harry's final solitary beam of light travelled through the smoke, and for a moment nothing happened, the red light was just absorbed into the massive swirl of grey that now surrounded the entire Atrium.

Then it happened.

A magical explosion, this one larger than the first, ripped through the Atrium, sending a dangerous wave of raw powerful magic and debris back toward Harry. His eyes bulged, but he was able to raise his wand and throw up the strongest shield he could in the few seconds that he had. It was quite weak compared to what he could usually do, but it did the job and was able to protect him from the brunt of the blast. His shield could do nothing to protect him from the sheer force of the explosion, and Harry still found himself send flying back a few feet. Miraculously, he still had the Prophecy cradled in his hand, and was able to curl his body around it to protect it as he hit the ground.

Harry groaned as he readjusted the glasses on his face. Every inch of every muscle in his body felt like was burning and he couldn't help but hope that he was nearing the end of this battle. The smoke was only just beginning to clear, and Harry ignored the pain he was in and pushed himself up to his knees with his wand once again outstretched. He scanned the masses of grey that surrounded him, looking for any sign of his foe. He was on edge, more so than he would of liked, and was ready to curse anything that moved.

Slowly but surely, the majority of the smoke cleared, meaning that he could once again see the Atrium. Bellatrix was only a few feet away from where he had last seen her, and judging by the rips and tears in her clock and welts on her face, the blast had been worse to her than it had been to him. The spells Harry had used couldn't have created that explosion; whatever Bellatrix had been trying to hit him with, one of his spells must have caused it to backfire.

He was slower than he usually was, but was still able to get out a Stunner, which was side stepped easily before Bellatrix's disarming curse hit him and sent his wand flying out of his hand. Harry tried to dive for it, but was forced to roll in the opposite direction as the Death Eater sent a Blasting Curse at the gap in between Harry and his wand.

"Enough Potter!" Bellatrix roared, as she stepped forward. Although she finally had Harry unarmed and defeated, the twisted twinkle of insanity that he had become accustomed to seeing in her eyes was vacant, and had been replaced with a glare filled nothing but hate. "No more games. Hand me the Prophecy. Now!"

Despite his desperate situation, Harry still shook his head and held onto the Prophecy a little tighter. He wouldn't just quit. "You'd have to kill me."

"Then I take that choice."

Harry watched with baited breath as Bellatrix raised her wand, and waited for her to say those two words that signalled the end.

"That is not your choice to make, Bella."

The new voice was high, and Harry recognised it at once. His blood turned cold and his scar burned as the Dark Lord Voldemort stepped out from seemingly nothing.

Voldemort was just as monstrous as the last time Harry had been face to face with him. His eyes were still narrowed into slits, with a deep shade of red shining from between them. The small holes now stood where his nose had once been, making Voldemort look as inhuman as he was. Harry watched as he crossed the room with an air of power that seemed to squash any magical ability he himself held. He risked a quick glance to the where his wand lay, and weighed up his options. Was it worth attempting to grab hold of it? No. The only way out now was through either the lifts, or one of apparition points, both of which was beyond Voldemort and his servant. That would be a stupid, snap decision and he knew it. As long as Harry still had the prophecy in his hand, he had what Voldemort wanted, and that gave him the leverage he would need to buy himself some time.

Voldemort seemed to ignore Harry, and instead walked toward Bellatrix, and placed his hand on top her wand. "You have done well, Bella," he said. She lowered her wand, and fell to her knees in front of her master. "But I will be the one to decide the fate of Harry Potter."

Finally, Voldemort turned around to face him, and Harry scrambled to his feet to confront his nemesis. He had to quell the surge of hatred that spiked inside of him as he stared into the cold orbs of the man who murdered his parents in cold blood, before turning his wand on an infant. He had to remain calm. He had to keep his wits about him.

Voldemort's wand hung lazily by his side, but Harry knew that he was capable of doing magnificent and devastating things with it in a matter of seconds. "You have fought admirably Harry," He begun, as he took a few steps forward to close the gap between them. "But now it is time for me to have what is rightfully mine. Give me the Prophecy Harry, and I promise you a painless death."

"Not much of an incentive." Harry responded, still forcing himself to remain calm and rational.

"Then tell me, Harry," Voldemort said softly, "What is it you want?"

"I want you to leave." Harry said firmly, with more confidence then he felt. "I want you to take all your servants and leave the Ministry. The battle is over. You have lost. I have the Prophecy." He could practically feel the eyes of the Dark Lord zero in on the crystal ball held tightly in his left hand. Unconsciously, he took a single step backwards.

"And if I don't leave?" Voldemort asked, after a single beat of silence.

Harry didn't answer for a moment. He lifted his right hand so that he and Voldemort had a clear line of sight of the object that both forces had been battling over. "Then I destroy it, and nobody hears what it says."

"Would you really destroy the one chance you have of finding out why your parents had to die?"

"I know exactly why my parents died!" Harry snapped, before having to take a deep breath to reign in his frayed temper.

"Do you?" Voldemort questioned, almost tauntingly. His wand still hung dangerously by his side, unused but waiting. "Would you give up the opportunity to discover why the destinies of young Harry Potter and the Dark Lord Voldemort have been entwined?" Harry didn't answer. "Of course you won't. You're too curious. Why don't we listen to it now Harry? You and I, together. Exactly how it was meant to be."

For a split second, Harry actually found himself swayed by his words. The answer why he had had to become _Harry Potter, _the _hero_ was lying in his hand, and there he was trying to destroy it. Any hesitation or doubt was firmly cast from his mind when he remembered that members of the Order of the Phoenix, and his friends were downstairs, having had to fight for the lives. The lucky ones would still be on their feet, probably looking for him. Hopefully, the unlucky ones were on their way to St. Mungo's by now. There was no way he was going to undermine everything they had fought for by giving Voldemort exactly what he wanted now. Help would arrive shortly. He just needed to by more time.

Harry clutched onto the Prophecy even tighter. "I already told you," he said, "Leave, or I will destroy it."

Voldemort's facial features suddenly transformed. They contorted and twisted and turned into something resembled such rage that Harry felt a whole new surge of fear ran through his body and down his spine when he saw it. It was gone a moment later, replaced by a mask of indifference. "Then so be it," he said, never taking his eyes of Harry. "Stand, Bella." The Death Eater who was still on her knees behind him followed orders and stood. Voldemort barely looked in her direction before issuing his instruction. "You know what to do."

Harry could do nothing but watch as Bellatrix walked over to one of the apparition points. A moment later, she was gone, leaving Harry and arch nemesis alone in the Atrium. Harry refused to take his eyes off the man who had murdered his parents. Voldemort seemed to be amused more than anything about that fact. His eyes bulged when Voldemort did lift his wand, and he stiffened, waiting for the green light of death to emerge from the tip. It never did. Instead, he casually flicked it, and Harry's phoenix feathered wand, which was still lying on the floor, landed by his feet.

"You're giving me back my wand," Harry stated, while wasting no time in scooping it up from the floor. Rolling his wand across his fingers, he couldn't help but feel a confidence boost knowing that now he at least had some way of defending himself. "Don't you remember what happened last time you did that?"

"Yes," Voldemort said, "One of my Death Eaters killed a friend of yours. I wonder if you can avoid making the same mistake."

Before Harry could ask about that comment, the familiar sound of apparition reverberated around the room and Bellatrix reappeared, but she wasn't alone.

A hooded figure lay at her feet, unmoving. Harry wasn't even sure if the person inside was conscious. It took him a moment, but judging by the body shape and the relatively short frame, it looked as if it was a female. When he noticed the tattered remains of her clothing, he shuddered. His breathing quickened and he could only hope that it was just a coincidence that he recognised that floral pink top.

"Leave us Bella," Voldemort hissed. With a quick bow of her head, Bellatrix once again disappeared into thin air. Voldemort looked back toward Harry and flicked his wand toward to figure on the floor. The figure was now upright on their knees, and Voldemort now spoke directly to Harry, "Hand me the prophecy Harry. I'll let her go free, and then we can duel, and you can die by my wand, as you were always meant to."

Harry didn't answer. His eyes scanned the Atrium, looking for any way out of this situation. His only hope was Dumbledore and the rest of the Order finding out where he was. _Hurry up, _he thought frantically. Voldemort reached down, and placed his hand on his hostages shoulder. The body seemed to jolt at the touch of the monster, and Harry could only raise his wand a little higher, ready to use it at a moment's notice. In one movement, Voldemort flicked his wand and the bag flew from figure's head.

As Harry laid eyes on Voldemort's hostage, his entire spine shivered. He felt as if he had just been punched in the stomach, and gasped out one word – no, one name – "Hermione..."

His best friend, the girl who had become like a sister to him, knelt before Voldemort with her eyes filled with nothing but pure terror. Her face that had been pretty the last time Harry had laid eyes on her was now swollen, and covered in what looked like deep bruises.

"No," He whispered, still staring at the fallen form of his friend. Voldemort's wand was now pointing at the back of his head, and he watched Harry's anguish with a cruel snarl stretched across his face. "You're lying!" he shouted, his wand once again aimed squarely at the Dark Lord. "You're trying to trick me! This isn't Hermione!"

"Harry..." The weak voice of the person Harry refused to recognise said softly and quietly.

"Shut up." Harry snapped.

"Harry..." the voice whispered again, "Harry it's me."

Harry shook his head, "I left you downstairs. You can't be here. You were safe with the oth-" he was forced to stop dead in his tracks when the horrifying truth hit him. He remembered his brief conversation with Ron, while he was chasing Bellatrix back through the Department of Mysteries. He was in a pretty bad way, and definitely not in a state where he could protect anybody from anything. He remembered seeing Ginny and Luna with him, both were incapacitated. He didn't even notice that Hermione wasn't where he had left her.

He looked into the eyes of girl in front of him, who was an exact portrait of pain and suffering, and felt a mixture of crushing guilt and overwhelming anger flood him at once. "I'm sorry." He said, not wanting to fathom what had happened to her while he was fighting over the Prophecy. "I'm so sorry."

"She doesn't have to die, Harry," The cold, high voice that could only belong to Lord Voldemort redirected Harry's attention and anger, so much so that he had to force himself not to curse the Dark Lord on the spot. Doing so would almost certainly result in the death of his best friend. "Give me the Prophecy, and she walks free."

Once again, Harry didn't have to think. There was no choice. Hermione couldn't die here today, _she wouldn't _die here today. He glanced down at the Prophecy he had fought so hard to obtain, and prepared to toss it across the Atrium. He braced himself, and braved one final look at Hermione. She didn't open her mouth, and she didn't try to say anything. Instead, she shook her head a single time, the fear that she was going through was evident by the look in her eyes. He knew what she was trying to tell him.

This was Voldemort he was dealing with. He was ruthless. Death Eaters were different; they were just men, not Dark Lords. They could be reasoned with. If he thought for a second that Voldemort would just let Hermione go he would give him the Prophecy in a heartbeat and leave himself to the mercy of his wand. "How do I know you're not going to try and kill her anyway?"

"You have my word."

Despite the situation, Harry snorted. "Your word means nothing," Harry hesitated for a moment as he tried ignore the sick feeling he was getting as he bartered for his friends life. He took a moment to find his voice, and spoke with far more confidence then he felt. "This is between me and you. Let her go and then-"

"_Avada Kerdava!" _

His words got caught at the back of his throat as he watched a green light erupt from his wand and hit his best friend squarely in her back. Harry registered the blank look that past Hermione's eyes before she fell backwards.

Harry felt like he couldn't breathe as he stared down at the unmoving form of the once person who had always stood beside him, the person who had been there for him and fought beside him during the fight for the Philosophers Stone to the trials of the Triwizard Tournament.

He felt even sicker as he confronted the simple truth that lay before him.

Hermione Granger was dead.


End file.
